


A Night at the Ministry

by Femslash_writer



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Cunnilingus, F/F, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Omega Verse, Panties, Public Display of Affection, Public Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Sex Magic, Sexual Inexperience, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-14
Updated: 2020-06-14
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:47:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24711841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Femslash_writer/pseuds/Femslash_writer
Summary: Gwenog convinces Hermione to sneak away during the British Ministry of Magic Gala to have some fun. Omega/Omega
Relationships: Gwenog Jones/Hermione Granger
Kudos: 38
Collections: The First Annual Femslash Kink Exchange 2020





	A Night at the Ministry

“People are staring,” Hermione hissed, her face now redder than the Weasley family’s hair. 

Gwenog chuckled. She had refrained from dancing with her lover most of the night, allowing the sycophants their turn on the dance floor with the famous war heroine. She had finally had enough when the French ambassador, a Veela, asked her girlfriend to dance. The Quidditch player swooped in easily. She took Hermione’s arm and kissed her soundly on the lips, showing the Veela exactly who the Golden Girl belonged with. 

Hermione had tried to chastise her but another kiss silenced the protest. Hermione loathed the popularity. People staring, thanking her for her service; it was all too much. Unfortunately, everyone knew the famous couple on sight. Their half masks did nothing to hide their faces. The omegas could not move around in the wizarding world without at least one of them being recognized. 

At least now she had someone who understood the burden of fame. Gwenog made everything bearable, even if Hermione still couldn’t understand the older witch’s love of Quidditch. It truly was a barbaric game. 

“Ignore them, love,” Gwenog whispered, turning her dance partner and dipping her low. It gave both the onlookers and the Holyhead Harpies captain a great view of the young omega’s cleavage. They could look, but she would be the one knuckle deep in the girl before the night was over. “You look gorgeous.”

Somehow the Gryffindor’s blush intensified, her pheromones showing the truth of her delight at the kind words. Dating incompetent prats most of her life did not prepare her for such compliments. Hermione never knew the love of the tan athletic omega would fulfill her so completely. 

Hermione let herself be twirled across the entrance hall floor. Eyes of both ministry officials and invited dignitaries trailed them. At least Rita Skeeter had not received an invitation to the British Ministry of Magic Masquerade Ball. The Quibbler would be the only one with the inside scoop. Xenophilius steadfastly ignored her after the trio's encounter at his home. There would be no word of the famous couple for tomorrow’s gossip rags. “I believe they are looking at you. You’re the gorgeous one.”

Gwenog did not blush. 

Instead, she stared into the young Gryffindor’s eyes, a cocky, half smirk forming on her lips. “How much longer do you think we have to be here before we can sneak off? I need to remind you who you belong with, little omega.”

“We are not having sex in the ministry.” Hermione kept her voice low so couples dancing close to them could not hear. Gwenog had no such concern. 

“But you love it when my tongue-”

Lips met, effectively cutting off the woman’s next words. 

Although Hermione was not one for public displays of affection, she did not want others to hear whatever lewd comment was about to exit her girlfriend’s mouth. The woman was so much more experienced in teasing, exuding a sexual aura both in and out of the bedroom. It was overwhelming at times.

Gwenog eagerly kissed her lover back, one hand lacing through the Gryffindor’s soft curls. The captain’s body pressed firmly into the younger girl’s, earning her a whimper. When Hermione realized she had begun rubbing against her dance partner, she pulled back, clearing her throat. 

The Welsh witch smirked. Her inexperienced lover might find such things embarrassing, but Gwenog did not mind the stares. She enjoyed the knowledge that the room knew who the famous Hermione Jean Granger belonged with. 

“You need to behave,” the younger witch whispered. 

Gwenog was kind enough to lower her voice this time, her breath ghosting across her lover’s neck. “Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it? Remember how wet you were when I fucked you in the locker room.”

Hermione’s full body blush seemed permanent at this point. “That was different.”

“It was no different, kitten.” Gwenog lips slowly trailed her neck. “I think you got off on the thought of someone walking in on us. Did you want Valmai to see you coming undone in my mouth? She has always admired you.”

Hermione shook her head, hiding her face in the Quidditch captain’s neck. It was thrilling, the idea of getting caught, but it was just an idea. The reality of getting caught was not one Hermione wanted to deal with, especially at her place of work.

“I think we could easily sneak away,” Gwenog continued whispering. “I can smell your want for me. I could even do that thing with my wand. You know how much you enjoy when I perform magic on you.”

Gwenog was a great witch, able to perform complicated spells, especially in the bedroom. Unfortunately for her girlfriend, the captain was deeply superstitious. She would not perform anything beyond the most basic spells during Quidditch season. 

For the captain to break her own rules, she must really want to indulge in a little semi-public sex, but Hermione was still hesitant. “We could just go to our very private home, to our own bed where we can be comfortable.”

Gwenog ignored her dance partner, lips dancing along Hermione’s neck just beneath her jaw. 

The Gryffindor shivered; she was so distracted that she did not notice the wandless, wordless spell being traced into her skin with the older omega’s hand. Gwenog's knowledge of spells could easily have earned a ministry position if not for her love of Quidditch. The hidden intelligence was almost as attractive as her hardened muscles.

Hermione gasped and jerked back. 

Gwenog’s tongue was tracing her scent gland, but it was not the sensations there that made her cry out. She could feel the tongue somewhere else, teasing her delicate pearl.

“What did you-”

“Shhh...just feel, love.”

Sucking the sensitive gland was delicious. Every flick and nibble of the captain’s tongue was mimicked below by an invisible force on the young woman’s clit. 

“Mmmmm…” Hermione groaned. Her eyes squeezed tight. When did her scent gland was so swollen? Her scent clouded the area around them, making her need obvious to anyone around them. She was still too much of a blushing wallflower to be truly into such displays in front of others. 

“You enjoying that,” Gwenog husked.

Before the older omega could return to her invisible teasing, Hermione gripped her wrist and led her to the lifts. 

“Where are we going?” The doors closed soundlessly, leaving only the two of them. 

“Just shut up and kiss me.”

She did not need to be told twice. Her tongue found a new use, possessively plundering the smaller omega’s mouth as the girl’s hands frantically tore the buttons from her dress shirt. Their masks fell in their frenzy joining the buttons on the floor. It was probably only reaching the young woman’s floor that saved the captain’s trousers from also being ruined. 

Reluctantly, Gwenog pulled away and allowed herself to be led to Hermione’s office, the whole way staring at her lover’s ass. “Bloody hell, I want you.” 

Hermione smirked. 

How the older omega loved the way the girl swung her hips when she walked in front of her. The captain knew she was only doing it to tease her and that made it all that much more arousing. For someone as inexperienced as the young omega was when they first met, she was an expert in seducing Gwenog, not that it was hard with her overactive sex drive. 

“Close and ward the door, darling,” Hermione husked. Her nerves had been replaced by arousal. 

The Quidditch captain worked quickly performing complex wards and silencing spells on the office. Hermione leaned against her floor to ceiling window watching. The spell casting was as good as any aphrodisiac. 

“That spell you performed down there was quite naughty of you, love.”

Gwenog turned with a predatory smile on her face, her hands tying up her hair into a loose ponytail. “Don’t tell me you didn’t love it, little witch.”

Before Hermione could respond, the older omega was on her knees pushing her dress up until it was bunched around her waist. “You wore panties?”

The Gryffindor’s blush returned. “I didn’t want to flash the whole bloody Ministry.” 

Unlike her partner, Hermione wasn’t willing to go commando, at least not in a dress with such a high slit. All it took was one wrong move, and everyone would know what her private bits looked like. Gwenog, on the other hand, did not need to worry in a pair of trousers and dress shirt. Her masculine clothes made her look both feminine and powerful. Going without underwear was easy enough. 

“Good because you are mine!” It came out as a growl. As teasing as Gwenog was sometimes about being walked in on or including others in their love making, she was highly possessive. She often enjoyed bending her lover over the kitchen table as soon as they arrived at their flat, just to remind the girl exactly who had permission to touch her. It wasn’t like Hermione was any different after a Quidditch match, seeing the captain’s adoring fans asking her to sign their breasts. No, she simply wouldn’t allow others to draw her lover’s eyes astray. 

“As you are mine,” Hermione groaned. A warm tongue lapped at her through her thong, tasting her wetness despite the offending material separating Gwenog from the source. 

“I want to watch you touch yourself,” the older omega husked. Her tongue lapped at the underwear; her nose bumped the younger girl’s clit. 

Hermione couldn’t deny her lover anything. As her more than experienced lover continued to suck and lap at the damp cloth, her fingers went inside her panties to her clit, circling the hard pearl. 

“That’s a good girl. Just like I would do to you.” 

The Golden Girl’s eyes closed, allowing herself to feel the pleasure as her head leaned back against the glass. Her fear of being caught was forgotten along with the hundreds of Ministry employees below. Her mind was on the tongue teasing her and the fingers that were driving her need higher. 

Gwenog watched in rapt awe as the girl pushed herself towards release. Fingers worked furiously before her eyes. Her tongue teased at the girl’s hole through the panties, enjoying the flood of juices that coated the thin material. 

It did not take long for Hermione to cry out, her back arching as she did so. Gwenog took the moment, knowing she could drive her girlfriend’s pleasure higher, to slide two fingers past the fabric and into her girlfriend’s clenching pussy.

“Fuck!” Hermione cried; her free hand clenched in Gwenog’s hair. “Yes! Yes!”

Her nose nuzzled the damp fabric, moving it slightly off center so her mouth could have access. The muggleborn’s noises only got louder as Gwenog’s tongue replaced the girl’s fingers. 

“Right there!” 

Gwenog smirked. She knew she was good with her tongue, filling and drawing out the girl’s pleasure as lapped at the tiny bud. Her fingers curled upward into the spongy area, driving into her g-spot again and again with each thrust. 

It did not take long for the young woman to let herself go once again. Her hips bucked wildly. Her scream sounded off the walls, echoing off and back at the couple. The Gryffindor didn’t care, she was on a different plane, stars bursting behind her eyelids. 

Gwenog slowed, letting her girlfriend ride out the feelings until her pussy no longer spasmed around the older woman’s fingers. She was so far gone in her post-orgasm bliss that she once again did not notice the wandless magic being cast on her. It wasn’t until the intense heat started in her core that she realized something was different. 

Her eyes opened. Gwenog’s wet lips were smirking, her eyes twinkling. “What are you doing?”

“Don’t you like my little heat spell, darling?”

Hermione gulped. She took suppressants to keep her real heats at bay. A magically induced one would drive her wild, making her clit vastly more sensitive. She could feel the slight chill in the air on her nipples. 

“I knew you’d like that.”

The girl gulped. “And you think you’ll be able to satisfy me?”

Gwenog growled lowly. “I am better than any alpha.”

“Prove it.”

Her mouth returned with renewed vigor. Her tongue kept licking, her finger moving as Hermione thrashed against her. 

“Yes! Yes! Gwen!”

The hand in the captain’s ponytail held her in place as the muggleborn’s hips canted in time with her thrusts, working Hermione through more orgasms in a single night than she had had with any of her previous lovers. 

Cries of pleasure bounced off the wall over and over again, begging Gwenog to continue until her clit became so sensitive that she had to push the eager mouth away from her. 

“Fuck...I don’t know if I can take anymore.” Hermione's eyes were still closed, her hand caressing her lover’s soft cheek. 

“I think I should take you home and tie you up, gag you, and finish having my way with you.”

The muggleborn grinned. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

“Only a thousand small deaths, love.”


End file.
